


Reap the Whirlwind

by Gnomeskillet



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Demon Hunters, Gore, Innuendo, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, a great big pile of OCs, canon as a guideline, it starts sad but it won't stay that way for long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 04:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16569242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnomeskillet/pseuds/Gnomeskillet
Summary: While hunting his first(!) demon, Kayn Sunfury stumbles across a lone Blood Knight taking on a Fel Reaver by himself. Filled with curiosity, Kayn finds himself following the lion-maned knight around Shadowmoon Valley, and eventually into a long string of shenanigans that somehow manage to work out for them. Sure, a few poor life choices are made along the way, but they learn how to make the best of a bad (and often stupid) situation through blind optimism, swearing, and occasionally killing everything in their way.





	1. Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I'm not going to lie to you; this is 100% self-indulgence and I am just here to have a good time. I'm trying to keep to canon as much as possible, but to be frank, canon confuses me. Also, I don't remember a good chunk of it. I should really replay the demon hunter starting zone at some point, but this is all... pre-Legion content anyway, so I am less concerned than I probably should be. I think it's going to be a good story anyway, and I care more about telling a good story than getting things right.
> 
> If you're still here, I would like to thank you for reading my fic. I'm having a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you have a lot of fun reading it. It starts a bit sad, but I promise that it's going to be mostly happy.

Illidari training officially begins when an initiate slays a demon, eats its heart, and drinks its blood. Such a violent, barbaric act would be enough to alienate anyone from polite society, but by taking in the essence of the demon, an Illidari initiate also invites the demon to live inside them, forming an irreversible bond. Their bodies mutate as the fel flesh and blood fills their stomach, growing horns, wings, and claws. They begin to crave fel energy and demonic flesh, and always, always, their inner demon whispers away, tempting them to forsake their cause, to forsake their world, and join the Burning Legion.

There were also visions of the Burning Legion destroying countless worlds across the universe. Visions so horrific, everyone who has seen them has clawed their own eyes out in terror. Everyone, including Illidan, the Great Betrayer, Lord of Outland and Master of the Illidari, whose eyes burned away inside their own sockets.

A bit of an intimidating hurdle to overcome, but there was no quicker way to weed out the weak or faint of heart. Kayn Sunfury was neither those things, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of eating a demon’s heart. Nevermind the consequences, he could deal with it when the time came, but he was expected to hunt down a demon, plunge his fist into its chest, rip out its heart, and then eat it. Raw. Like a troll.

Suffice to say, Kayn was NOT looking forward to it. At least he had the luxury of hunting his own target, of selecting the demon who would forever haunt his soul, something that was proving to be trickier than expected. Seated high up on a ridge overlooking Shadowmoon Valley, scowling at the demon-laden landscape, he found himself burdened by choice. 

Sighing heavily, Kayn stretched his arms over his head, then flopped back against the boulder, staring up at the dark clouds swirling through the fel green sky. Everything was fel green out here, even the landscape. Purple-black mountains loomed over the valley, bright green lava oozing in rivers down their faces into blue-black dirt and rocks, carving winding paths across the valley floor and converging into deep pools. 

Demons roamed freely here, but many were of common stock, making them easy to rule out; the mo’arg, imps, and felhounds were inconsequential, far beneath a Sin’dorei of his distinction. Some were simply inaccessible, such as the Infernals and Abyssals. As alluring as their power seemed, Kayn wasn’t sure if they even possessed a heart, and if they did, how to get at it. A Fel Lord seemed like a reasonable choice. Perhaps a Dreadlord? Terrorfiend? A nice Wrathlord perhaps? 

There were an awful lot of lords to choose from. He really should have made a choice sooner, like while he was studying the many different kinds of demons that made up the Legion’s infinite army.

As a loud mechanical scream filled the air, a grin split Kayn’s face. Had anyone ever brought in the heart of a Fel Reaver before? It would certainly make a statement, returning to the Black Temple with something so outrageous in tow. The towering fel-iron constructs roamed Shadowmoon Valley mindlessly, programmed to follow a predetermined route and destroying all they came across. Typically, it took no less than three seasoned fighters to bring one down, but Kayn was confident in his ability to manage one by himself.

Unfortunately, he’d have to find another one. Someone gold and glowing has already laid claim to this one, darting around its feet as holy symbols coalesced in the air then burst into sparks and beams of pure Light. A lone paladin of some sort. 

A fool, honestly. It was one thing for Kayn to consider chasing after Fel Reavers on his own; he was a highly trained assassin who spent the last year studying beneath Illidari masters to specifically slay demons. One of Kael’thas’ personal elites, brought to Outland in order to serve the Sun King as he sought a solution to his people’s addiction to magic, and sent to Illidan as a display of loyalty. Who was this but a paltry wielder of Light?

Kayn sneered his derision as he rolled onto his stomach to watch the paladin get themself killed, draping himself over a boulder and folding his arms atop it, resting his chin on them. At first, the show wasn’t that entertaining; from his vantage point, all Kayn could see was flashes of Light bouncing off the Fel Reaver’s legs as it stomped around, trying to crush the annoying paladin under its foot. But over time, the Fel Reaver’s movements grew slower, jerkier, until, amazingly, it simply fell over with a thunderous crash.

Kayn fell off his boulder.

As the aftershocks of the crash faded, Kayn scrambled to his feet, tripping over himself in his haste to climb down the ridge. Who were they? Who did this? Who just took down a Fel Reaver all on their own? As Kayn ducked, weaved, and power walked towards the downed construct, he mentally reviewed all the factions on Outland that were capable of manipulating the Light. 

The Broken? No. Though once they were capable of it, repeated exposure to Warlock magic had since broken their ties to the Light. Hence the name. A handful of Draenei occupied the ruins of Shattrath, but the figure was too small, too dark to be one of their number. Additionally, there were reports of forces amassing in Shattrath… if the Horde and Alliance were making their way through the Dark Portal, a human, perhaps? The last vestiges of an advance force? Perhaps the paladin wasn’t so alone after all.

Finally, there were the Sunfury Blood Knights, but most of Kael’thas’ forces were centralized in the Netherstorm. Still, a Blood Knight seemed the most likely option based on the dark color of their armor, even if Kael’thas had grown distant, possibly distracted, ever since he’d gifted a legion of soldiers to Illidan. But what would a lone Blood Knight be doing all the way out here? It was not safe to send a single messenger through demon infested territory, even if they did take down an entire Fel Reaver without any noticeable outside assistance.  
Kayn slowed his pace as he drew closer to the Fel Reaver, ducking behind a foot to safely study the paladin before he revealed his presence. A wild mane of golden blond hair stood out against the dark metal of the Fel Reaver’s foot like a Dreaming Glory blossom, haloing their face. Though their cheeks still held a bit of the roundness of youth, there was a squareness to their features to mark them as male. More importantly, up this close, Kayn instantly recognized their red and black armor and the scarlet phoenix emblem embroidered on their tabard.

Not a human, then. Another Sin’dorei. A Blood Knight certainly, but a knight of Silvermoon, not of Kael’thas. Seated on the ground, they leaned back against the Fel Reaver’s foot, eyes closed and lips pursed tightly together. One leg rested at an angle, the other stretched out in front of them, and in their lap, the knight held a canteen loosely in one hand. Despite a light coating of Shadowmoon Valley’s purple-gray dirt dusting his face, the knight didn’t appear injured. Just tired, though that didn’t seem quite the correct word to describe the knight’s posture. Defeated, perhaps, despite his triumph over the gargantuan demonic construct. Listless. Dejected. 

Curiously, a large golden battlehammer lay discarded within arm’s reach. An odd choice, considering that Blood Knights typically favored polearms, specifically ransuers, as their weapon of choice, though it was not uncommon to see a shield and sword among Silvermoon’s guards. Why would this one chose to use a hammer? 

Still, regardless of the weapon the knight wielded, Kayn was confident that the knight was of little threat to him. In a worst case scenario, Kayn could easily disarm the knight or disappear as necessary if the knight chose to attack, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. After all, as fellow Sin’dorei, they had no real reason to mistrust each other

Stepping from the shadows, Kayn approached the knight, making just enough noise to catch the knight’s attention. Glowing fel-green eyes cracked open as the knight turned his head towards Kayn, making no move to pick up his weapon. For a moment, they simply watched each other, then Kayn reached up, pulling the simple black assassin’s hood and mask from his face. “I saw your fight.”

“Oh.” The knight’s posture slumped slightly, his voice sounding a bit rough despite his light and disinterested tone. “That’s nice, I suppose. Though I’m not sure whether I should be upset that you didn’t try to intervene, or grateful. I’m leaning towards grateful. Does that sound weird?”

“You’re chattier than I thought you’d be,” Kayn said instead of answering the question, taking a few steps closer. Wherever the knight came from, he wasn’t bothered by Kayn’s presence, and Kayn found himself relaxing as a result. “You look awful.”

“Awful,” the knight agreed, huffing out a quiet snort of laughter with a bob of his head, looking down at his hands resting listlessly in his lap. “Yes, I certainly feel awful. Do you have any water? I seem to have drank all of mine.”

Silently, Kayn held out his water skin, watching with a raised eyebrow as the knight took it and drunk deeply.

“Thank you,” the knight murmured, taking another smaller sip of water. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the knight sat quietly with his gaze lowered, fiddling with the braiding on the waterskin. Finally, he took a deep breath, looking away entirely as he added, “I probably shouldn’t bother, but if I’m going to go out in a blaze of glory, I figure I should give it my best effort.”

“A blaze of glory?” Kayn asked, waving off the knight as he offered the waterskin back. “Drink as much as you like, I’m fully capable of obtaining more.”

Kayn paused as the knight thanked him and took another drink, pondering the best way to indirectly ask where the knight came from. “Where is the rest of your unit?”

The knight’s head jerked up sharply, fel green eyes blinking owlishly at Kayn. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then tilted his head back, inhaling deeply. After a long moment of contemplation, he turned back to Kayn, his eyebrows pinched together as he asked, “Do you think it’s dishonorable to be the sole survivor of a battle?”

It was Kayn’s turn to blink owlishly, then open and close his mouth as he shuffled awkwardly in place. That was not the answer he was expecting, and only created more questions in his mind. “I suppose it depends on exactly how you managed to survive? Abandoning your brothers in arms is shameful, but sometimes, demons can be very cruel…”

A wry smile tugged at the corners of the knight’s lips, a quiet huff of laughter escaping from between them as Kayn trailed off. His voice lost a little bit of its roughness, filling in warm and dulcet as he asked, “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

Immediately, Kayn’s expression dropped into a scowl of disapproval and Kayn folded his arms over his chest. He resented the implication that he was less than perfect at anything. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s fine,” the knight laughed, waving him off before rising to his feet. He dusted himself off briefly before straightening out, holding out Kayn’s waterskin to return it. 

Kayn didn’t notice, too busy mentally recalibrating his assessment of the knight. Despite the fact that he wore the heavy plate armor of a full-fledged Blood Knight, the top of the knight’s head barely rose to the center of Kayn’s chest. How old was the knight? He had to have been of An Age, he had a little soul patch and everything! But… he was so small.

Noticing the look of surprise on Kayn’s face, the knight licked his lips, ducking his head as his shoulders shook with a laugh, then looked up with a smile. A bitter smile full of exhaustion much deeper than physical that didn’t reach his eyes as the knight peered up at him through his bangs. “Yes, I am an adult. I have been for a hundred years now, thank you.”

“I didn’t- that’s not what- that’s not what I was thinking,” Kayn spluttered, taking a step back and trying not to let his embarrassment show on his face. It wasn’t his fault for second guessing the knight’s age; the longer they talked, the more the knight began to emerge from his shell. Existential exhaustion gave way to a smile, showing off the youthful roundness of his face. Add in a bit of emotion and remove the hoarse roughness of thirst, and the knight spoke with the lighthearted cheer of a child. And he really was very short. Unexpectedly short, given how well his armor sat upon his broad frame. “It’s just… You’re very short,”

“And you’re very tall,” the knight replied with a laugh, eyes quickly glancing over Kayn’s lean form as the knight turned away to pick up his hammer. There was a heat to the knight’s gaze that Kayn hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t seen from another person in years, making him feel oddly exposed despite his thick, black assassin’s leather.

But as flirtatious as the gaze may have been, the knight didn’t leave Kayn a lot of time to think about it. With a wave of his hand, he rested his hammer on his shoulder and turned on his heel, sauntering away with a causal, “Well, anyway, if you don’t mind, I still have a deathwish to fulfill.” 

Between the abrupt, dismissive turn and fatalistic statement, Kayn was left stunned, staring at the knight’s retreating back as he disappeared around the Fel Reaver’s prone form. Giving his head a shake to snap himself back to his senses, Kayn quickly climbed onto the Fel Reaver, scanning the landscape for the knight’s dandelion tuft of hair. He spotted it heading off towards the imp pits, hardly a dignified place to die if you wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. There were plenty of things to distract you from your pain, though, if nothing else.

Kayn was faced with a choice; indulge his curiosity and follow the Blood Knight, or continue on with his own personal quest.

It should have been an easy decision. Proving himself to Lord Illidan and making his way into the ranks of the Illidari was important to him. Not just because he was there representing Kael’thas, but because he truly believed in the cause. Kayn had spent his youth killing, stealing, and spying for Sin’dorei nobility; once it felt fulfilling, a wonderful test of his abilities, but as he grew older, grew more experienced, it all began to feel so futile. The nobles played their political games, stabbing each other in the back while smiling in each other’s faces. What was the point of it all besides personal gain?

At least among the Illidari, he could put his skills to use against a much greater, all-encompassing threat. If the Burning Legion broke through to Azeroth in force, then truly, all those petty noble games would be pointless.

But then, there were plenty of demons in Shadowmoon Valley, and in fact, on all of Outland. Hadn’t he just been mourning the abundance of choice minutes before? Kayn still had plenty of time to make his choice and return to the Illidari outpost. Who knew what would happen to the Blood Knight out here alone?

Pulling his mask and hood back on, Kayn took off after the knight, maintaining a discreet distance and sticking to the shadows. He was only observing for now, gathering information before he made any real decisions. If the knight was adept as he seemed, it might be worth aiming his suicidal tendencies towards the Illidari. They could always use more bodies, especially if the mortality rate was anything near what the masters had implied. If he wasn’t, well…

The demons would kill him, and that’d be the end of the story, now wouldn’t it?

Somehow, that just didn’t sit right with Kayn. The knight took down an entire Fel Reaver, a 100 foot titan of fel iron and fire, by himself! And then got up and just kept going! He couldn’t just die out here; it would be such a waste of talent and strength. Regardless of what came next, Kayn did not want to see the knight fall.

Watching the knight wade into a swarm of imps, the ground glowing gold at his feet, Kayn began to wonder if the knight actually could die. The Light spread across the fel infused ground as the knight stepped forward, his hand outstretched and head held high, moving slowly, almost as if he was in a trance. It was slow at first, just the faintest trickle streaming through the cracks in the ground, then it grew stronger, brighter, flowing freely like water bursting through a dam, until the knight was completely engulf in its glow.

How anyone could channel so much of the Light in a land as saturated with demon taint as the valley, Kayn did not know. Nowhere on Outland held a higher concentration of fel energy, and yet here was this paladin, this Blood Knight pulling forth the Light in such great quantities that it consecrated the ground he walked on. Where was he pulling it from? What was his source? 

When he left Quel’thalas, the Blood Knights were learning how to drain the life force from a lone Naaru. Though it was true that it was a creature of pure concentrated Light, surely it must be close to death by now? There were so many knights drawing on its power, and from Azeroth to Outland was such an incomprehensibly far distance to channel an energy. Did something change since he left Kael’thas’ entourage, or was there something more he was missing?

As Kayn watched him and wondered from the shadows, the knight swept through the imp pits without ever once reaching for his weapon. He simply waded through them for hours, until the ground was so infused with holy energies that imps could no longer step foot in them without burning. It wasn’t enough to put out the felfires burst through cracks in the ground, filling the air with noxious smoke, but the land would be uninhabitable by lesser demons for at least a day or so.

When the knight finally ceased his wandering, he stood for a few moments on wavering legs, then collapsed to his knees, all the Light fading from him. Kayn almost bolted towards him, almost ran to his side to catch him before he hit the ground, not that he was concerned, but he quickly squashed that urge. He was only observing! If he approached now, he would only give himself away.

After a moment or two, the knight stirred, slumping forward and burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shook once, then all the tension left his body as the knight reached back, pulling a backpack from his shoulders. Within minutes, the knight had a small campfire burning and rations warming as he unfurled a bedroll. All at once, looking over that quaint little camp on hallowed ground, Kayn felt all his exhaustion catch up and overwhelm him. He’d been out since the early morning, sharpening his blades on diemetradon and scouting out his options. Now, all he wanted to do was rest.

Pulling down his mask, Kayn approached the fire, letting the ground crunch under his feet to announce his approach. The knight turned sharply, startled, then relaxed when he saw Kayn’s face, a wry smile softening his face and a teasing warmth in his tired voice as he asked, “Did you follow me?” 

Feigning indifference, Kayn rested his hands on his belt and came to a halt in front of the fire, shrugging his shoulders like it wasn’t a big deal. “You’ve cleared out every demon in the surrounding area. It makes my hunt a little difficult.”

“Besides, you’re not exactly subtle,” he added, pointing to the faintly glowing landscape as the knight laughed.

“If I knew you were hunting demons, I would have left you a couple.” he chuckled, then looked away, ducking his head sheepishly. A moment later, his eyes flicked back towards Kayn, his lower lip caught thoughtfully in his teeth. “Is that… really the only reason you’re here?”

“Well, I did have a few questions,” Kayn admitted, folding his arms over his chest and taking a few sauntering steps closer. “What is a Blood Knight doing all the way out here for starters. I thought Kael’thas and his entourage were deeply occupied with harvesting mana in the Netherstorm. How you manage to channel so much of the Light is another. I don’t say this often, but quite frankly, I’m impressed.”

Kayn almost missed the knight’s quiet “oh,” it was spoken so softly, coming out as more of a gasp than an exclamation. Still, it said a lot, as did the wide-eyed look on the knight’s face. He was definitely not one of Kael’thas’ Blood Knights; Silvermoon was here. 

Suddenly, Kayn had a lot more questions. Why? Where? Were they here as allies? Or as enemies? In truth, since arriving on Outland, Kayn hadn’t thought much of home, of the petty squabbles of the nobility, of how they could affect the army of Kael’thas. God, they were so far away, how could they possibly have any impact on his life now? And yet, suddenly, so very suddenly, they were so very close.

“You don’t know,” the knight breathed, his shoulders curling in, making him look small. For a moment, the knight floundered wordlessly, a wide range of expressions dancing over his face. Shock, suspicion, confusion, trepidation, a complete utter loss of words were among those that Kayn could pick out. 

Finally, he took a deep breath, shrugged, and ran a hand through his hair. “You are not going to like this,” he murmured,shaking his head. When he looked up at Kayn, his expression was bittersweet, a smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Well, I did come out here to seek my death in battle. Perhaps this is as fitting of an end as any.”

“You think I’m going to kill you?” Kayn asked, wondering what he didn’t know. What could the knight tell him that would upset him enough that he would kill one of his own? “Why?”

“Well, as it turns out, Kael’thas is a blood traitor,” the knight replied slowly, looking towards his campfire to avoid meeting Kayn’s eyes. “Or something like that, so those of us left behind on Azeroth have fought our way out here and put an end to his reign of tyranny.” 

“That’s… what do you mean?” Kayn asked, his mind darting back to the Black Temple and all the Sin’dorei stationed there. He thought of Kael’thas and the Sin’dorei of Netherstorm, relentlessly drilling, innovating, searching for a cure to their magical addiction. Where had Kael’thas gone wrong? Where had he betrayed them?

Taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, the knight licked his lips, then sighed, burying his hand in his hair. 

“A month ago, Kael’thas sent Voren’thal to attack Shattrath,” the knight explained, and Kayn recalled the event in passing. The order went out after Kayn had left for the Black Temple, and Kael’thas had sent a request for additional troops. Illidan refused; the Sin’dorei troops were too new, they hadn’t even begun the initiation rituals yet, and he did not have the hunters to spare. It was a reasonable refusal, but Kael’thas had raged like the Tempest he now called home. 

“Voren’thal and all his troops surrendered immediately. They believed Kael’thas to be unstable. Silvermoon has been sending troops through the Dark Portal ever since.”

Unstable. Yes, Kayn supposed he could see where Kael’thas’s recent temperament would be cause for concern. “But surely that’s not enough to call him a blood traitor?”

“No, but... last week, Voren’thal saw something, something bad.” The knight bit his lip, his brow furrowing deeply, then he looked up at Kayn. “He saw Kael’thas making a pact with Kil’jaeden.”

Kil’jaeden. It was as though the world had been ripped out from beneath Kayn’s feet, leaving him unbalanced. How could he? How could Kael’thas betray them to the Burning Legion like that? After all he’d done for Illidian - all they’d achieved together! He should have known better. As one of the people who knew the truth of the Burning Legion, Kael’thas should not be so susceptible to Kil’jaeden’s temptations.

“You’re lying.” The words broke past Kayn’s lips before he could catch them, shooting through the air like poisoned arrows.

“I wish I was,” the knight sighed, turning his back towards Kayn as he continued setting up his camp, trusting Kayn not to kill him for his blasphemy, or perhaps offering him the chance.

“Then you’ve been grossly mislead,” Kayn suggested, still not quite willing to accept the knight’s words at face value. If Kael’thas truly sided with Kil’jaeden, it would make the situation on Outland considerably more complicated. “He’s joined forces with Illidan, you see. The Illidari are sworn to oppose the Burning Legion, so Kael’thas would never make a pact with a demon.”

“I’m sorry, the Illidari are what now?” the knight asked with a scoff, turning back to Kayn with his eyebrows raised skeptically.

“Demon hunters,” Kayn snapped back, unfolding his arms and beginning to pace restless, angry steps across the camp. “I know Illidan is known as the Great Betrayer, but it’s true, I swear. The Illidari hunt and kill demons, using their own power against them. Illidan has made mistakes in the past, but I know in my heart that the path we have chosen is the correct one. The Burning Legion cannot be fought by mere mortals, it can only be overcome by an army as great, and as terrible as itself.”

“Well, that’s the first I’ve heard of this,” the knight shrugged, rolling over to flop on his bedroll, his arms folded behind his head. “I suppose it’s all inconsequential now, since I have no intention of living to see the consequences.”

“You’re welcome to spend the night,” the knight added, gesturing to the campfire. “I imagine we’ll be left alone long enough to rest.” 

“Why are you trying to kill yourself?” Kayn stopped his pacing, approaching the knight and sitting down at his side. As he leaned over him, one arm braced next to the knight’s head, Kayn searched his face for answers. For his effort, the knight gave him a blush, his lips quirking up into a smile despite the sadness in his eyes. “Is it because of Kael’thas? Or is it something else? You’re so strong otherwise; what’s driven you to this?”

“Well,” the knight began, his cheeks glowing ever brighter as he turned his gaze away. How curious. “Let’s put it this way; I think you’re the first person who’s ever told me I’m strong.”

“That cannot be right,” Kayn argued, shaking his head sharply. “You took down an entire Fel Reaver by yourself.”

“Yes I did…” the knight mused, tilting his head in the general direction of the fallen Fel Reaver. After a moment, he sighed wistfully, his brows furrowing until his smile turned bitter. “You know, I really was sort of hoping it would kill me.”

Before Kayn could respond, the knight turned his attention back to Kayn, asking, “So you’re a demon hunter, right? Do you know if there’s anything stronger?”

“Stronger?” Kayn asked, hardly daring to believe his ears. The knight nodded once, passively staring back at him with the faintest of smiles on his face. “Than a Fel Reaver?”

“If you would be so kind.”

Kayn didn’t know what to say to that. The Blood Knight clearly had a deathwish, but he was also clearly a skilled combatant. Letting him simply rush to his death would be a waste of a precious resource. Beyond that, if the knight’s words were true, someone would need to inform Illidan of Kael’thas’s defection. True, Kayn could do it himself, but surely having it come straight from the knight himself would lend the report extra credence. 

All he had to do was convince the knight to come back to the temple with him.

“Well, there are the pit lords,” he said with a shrug, gesturing absently with one hand. “You’ll never make it close enough to one on your own, of course, but I can-”

“What makes you think I intend to make it?” the knight interrupted, his expression a beatific mask of serenity. It brought Kayn up short, leaving him standing there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes blinking owlishly.

It was a chilling declaration, to which Kayn had no answer, and after that, he left the knight alone to sleep. In the end, the knight didn’t touch the rations he’d set by the fire to cook, leaving Kayn to wonder if the knight had been aware of his presence the whole time, or if he’d simply begun cooking as a matter of habit. When it became evident that the knight truly did not intend to eat, Kayn snatched the warm rations and dug in himself; though he could survive a day or two without eating, it would be best to keep his strength up for his hunt.

Sleep did not come easily to Kayn that night. For hours, he stared deeply into the fire as the knight slept, his expression peaceful and serene, careless and unconcerned about his own safety. Why should the knight care when he was so determined to die? It was a mindset Kayn didn’t understand. Though Kayn had made peace with death himself, willing to perish in the line of duty if it meant the survival of his people, he didn’t relish the thought.

Why couldn’t Kayn simply let him go? The knight was of no real concern to him; he did have a hunt of his own to focus on. He was wasting too much time, he needed to find a demon and bring it back to the checkpoint by dusk the next day, bring it back to the masters so that he could eat its heart and gain its power. At this rate, he wouldn’t have time to find the perfect fit and he’d have to settle for the first demon he came across.

He hoped it didn’t come to that. He wouldn’t let it come to that. When the weak light of the sun began to burn green in the sky once more, he would gather himself and leave, head towards the Legion Hold and take down the strongest Doomguard he could find. Ered’ruin were a part of Archimonde’s personal guard, after all.

The next morning, Kayn was woken by the mechanical bellowing of a Fel Reaver, followed by a thunderous crash that shook the ground around him. Heart racing, Kayn glanced frantically over the campsite, finding it completely cleared out, nothing left but faint scorch marks where the fire had been. When did he fall asleep? How had the knight managed to pack everything up without waking him?

Another bellow pulled Kayn’s attention back into focus, and he quickly scrambled to his feet, racing towards the edge of the imp pits. Catching a ledge in his hand, he pulled himself up, scanning the horizon for the Fel Reaver. To his left, the towering behemoth rose above the plains, standing above the landscape like an iron monolith. A glowing golden orb rested at its feet, drawing attention to itself just as easily as the monstrous Fel Reaver.

“Oh no,” Kayn murmured to himself as the Light took the form of a hammer and struck the Fel Reaver firmly in the chest. Bellowing in outrage, it reeled back from the force of the blow, windmilled its arms for balance, then as Kayn watched, lifted one foot, pulled it back, and kicked.

“Oh NO!” he shouted as the gargantuan foot struck the glowing orb, sending it flying through the air. The orb flickered as it crashed into a boulder, held for just a moment, then dropped. It was too far away for Kayn to see the knight’s body, but it didn’t matter. In an instant, Kayn hauled himself up out of the pits and sprinted across the ground, ducking into the shadows of boulders, traversing the in between spaces only to emerge closer to the Fel Reaver. 

Kayn and the Fel Reaver reached the knight’s fallen form at the same time. With a roar of rage, Kayn threw himself at the Fel Reaver and began climbing up it’s metal carapace. It ignored him completely as it raised a foot to stomp down on the helpless knight, giving Kayn the opportunity to climb up towards its knee, pulling a handful of throwing daggers from his belt. Before the Fel Reaver could put its foot down, Kayn stuffed dagger after dagger into the joint until metal screamed and gears ground to a halt.

This caught the construct’s attention, and as it leaned down to examine the broken joint, Kayn scurried further up its body. Its hips were the next location to fall victim to Kayn’s daggers, and it swayed dangerously back and forth as it struggled vainly to get its clogged joints to grind through the obstructions. Metallic screeching filled the air, but by then, Kayn reached its chest, clinging to the metal ribcage as felfire blasted from its internal furnace. Plumes of heat belched forth as the Fel Reaver raged, scorching Kayn’s skin. Kayn’s eyes burned as he breathed in the felfire fumes, but Kayn ignored it all, riding high on a combination of rage, fear, and battlelust.

With two feet braced on either side of the Fel Reaver’s chest plate, one hand grasping the furnace grill, Kayn pulled out his short sword, the last of his blades, and plunged it deep into the Fel Reaver’s chest, through the felfire and coals, straight up until it reached the Reaver’s heart.

The demonic construct screamed in pain, reeling backwards as it arms flailed at its chest, trying dislodge Kayn and the sword from its body, but Kayn was already gone, back flipping off the fel iron behemoth, leaving his sword embedded deep inside the heart. As he dove towards the ground, the reaver’s thrashing threw it off balance, sending it toppling to the ground with a thunderous crash, shaking the earth and rattling stones. 

Kayn landed lightly, tucking into a roll to convert his downward momentum into forward motion, then dashed to the knight’s side. Heart pounding frantically in his chest, Kayn took the knight’s face in his hands, eyes frantically searching for any sign of life. Beneath his fingertips, Kayn felt the flutter of a heartbeat, and after a moment, the knight let out a faint groan, tilting his head into Kayn’s palm.

Sighing in relief, Kayn took a moment to recenter himself and let the adrenaline fade from his veins. Now that the immediate danger had passed, he could take his time and do things carefully.

“Knight, wake up. Open your eyes and look at me,” he commanded, keeping his voice steady and calm. “I know you’re still alive, wake up.”

At first, the knight simply continued to groan and whine pitifully, but when Kayn chided him with a teasing “are you a knight or are you a man?” he roused, cracking one eye open to peer up at Kayn.

“I’m awake,” the knight mumbled, the faintest hint of a whine in his voice. “Although I rather wish I wasn’t.”

Kayn huffed out a laugh, letting his head drop with a sigh, before lifting it back up again with a half-smile. “Yes, I’m sure you do. Now, put your arms around my neck, I’m picking you up.”

“Nooooo,” the knight wailed faintly, doing as he was told despite his protest. “I don’t want to be rescued.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Kayn casually countered, slipping one hand under the knight’s knees and wrapping the other around his waist. He took a moment to center his weight, getting his feet beneath him, then he stood, lifting the knight from the ground with a grunt. The knight’s small size meant that he wasn’t as heavy as he could be, but his plate armor still doubled his weight. “I’ve already taken care of the Fel Reaver, and you are powerless to stop me. You’re not even injured that badly. I guess you’ll just have to resign yourself to living another day.”

“You’re a cruel man, Demon Hunter” the knight mumbled, tucking his head against Kayn’s collarbone, the soft tufts of his golden hair tickling Kayn’s chin and neck. “Couldn’t you have just left me to die?”

“No, I couldn’t,” he said solemnly, jogging back towards the Illidari checkpoint. “I meant to, but every time I considered it, it felt wrong. You’re too strong, too capable to die alone. Let me take you back to the Illidari; I promise you, there will be a place for you.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” the knight whispered, his quiet voice muffled against Kayn’s shoulder. “Who are you? Why should I trust you?”

“My name is Kayn. Kayn Sunfury,” he said, resisting the urge to brush his chin over the top of the knight’s head. “So you know who to curse in the coming years. As for the rest, you’ll just have to have faith.”


	2. Initiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! There is graphic blood and gore and violence at the end of this chapter, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it. Narratively speaking, I think there is enough lead up that you should be able to see it coming, the worst of it happens as Kayn does his Illidari initiation.

It took special skill to measure the passage of time in Shadowmoon Valley. The difference between night and day was very difficult to distinguish; at all times, dark, noxious clouds filled the sky, blocking out the sun, the moon, and the stars. They only parted around the Black Temple, leaving just enough room for an enormous moon to fill the sky. Tracking the cycle of the day could only be done by how brightly the ominous green glow on the horizon shined.

Night was just starting to fall when Kayn reached the Illidari checkpoint, the brilliant green fel clouds glowing ever brighter as the ambient light faded from the sky. Kayn staggered up the road, exhausted from carrying the knight halfway across the valley. Just inside the checkpoint, Kayn passed the last of the initiates, a Sin’dorei woman collapsed across an arcane stretcher, green blood staining her arms and chest. Bandages criss-crossed her face, red blood soaking through from her empty eye sockets, matting in her hair where two short horns emerged from her scalp. Several of the masters attended to her, preparing her body and the stretcher for the journey back to the Black Temple, where she would remain unconscious until her Spectral Sight awakened.

Nearby, glowing fel blood soaked the ground while gutted and dismembered demonic corpses were piled high in a burning pyre. As Kayn made his way through the checkpoint, the masters looked up from their work one by one, expressionlessly watching Kayn’s progress from behind their blindfolds. As he passed, most decided to return their attention to what they were doing, but one of the masters set aside his work and dusted his hands on his knees, rising smoothly to his feet to meet Kayn. A Kal’dorei with deep purple skin, Master Rhythas towered over most of the others, his large, curling horns sitting heavily on his brow. Unlike many other demon hunters, he chose to go without a blindfold, letting the felfires in his eye sockets burn for all to see.

“While I am glad to see that you have returned to us, Kayn, I do have some concerns,” Master Rhythas began slowly, taking careful steps as he crossed the checkpoint. One hand curled thoughtfully over his chin, obscuring a bemused smile from sight. “Your tardiness aside, I do believe that that is not a demon that you are carrying.”

“I am aware, Master,” Kayn huffed, straightening himself up, pulling on the last of his strength to appear sufficiently haughty and composed. He hadn’t expected his return to the checkpoint to take so long, but neither distance nor the local fauna were on his side. It was only his luck that the demons left them completely alone, and two hours ago, he began to regret his decision to rescue the knight. Still, it wouldn’t do to appear weak or unsure of himself in front of the masters. “He is, in fact, a Blood Knight from Silvermoon whom I rescued from a Fel Reaver.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he added, “He knows important information. Apparently, there has been an... unfortunate development regarding Kael’thas Sunstrider’s loyalty.” 

Sudden stillness filled the checkpoint as all activity stopped, and Kayn felt a dozen sightless eyes focus solely on him.

“Unfortunate how?” Master Rhythas asked, his deep, resonant voice low and soft. Though there was no edge to his words, danger rumbled in the distance like a thunderstorm on the horizon.

Kayn swallowed thickly and licked his lips, clutching the knight a little bit tighter. When he’d been kicked by the the Fel Reaver, the knight had cracked his head against the groun hard enough to received an injury that left him wavering in and out of consciousness all day. During an encounter with a felboar, the knight managed to conjure a shimmering barrier just long enough for the pair to escape unscathed, but he use up the last of his strenght as a result. Now, he lay unconscious in Kayn’s arms, leaving Kayn to face this judgement on his own. “Kael’thas is going to make a pact with Kil’jaeden. Or has. The knight knows better than I.”

A murmur swept through the checkpoint as the Illidari masters glanced to each other. Suddenly, Kayn felt very aware of how pale his skin was next to the deep purple bodies of the Kal’dorei, a feeling he had not experienced since his first arrival. His mind flashed to all the Sin’dorei initiates back at the temple, so many of them sent along as a personal gift from from Kael’thas, and he wondered how this news would affect them all.

What was more, how was the news affecting him? In all the time he’d spend chasing the knight, he never really took the time to process Kael’thas’ betrayal. He had dedicated hundreds of years to serving the Sun King, and though he truly believed that Lord Illidan’s path was the correct one, a hundred years of loyalty was a difficult matter to discard.

Master Rhythas seemed to follow his thoughts, glancing sidelong at the Kal’dorei gathered around them. “I see. And what will you do, Kayn?” 

Kayn looked at him, took in the felfire burning where the master’s eyes should have been. Many Illidari hid the fire behind blindfolds, some simple, some ornamental, but Rhythas stood tall, felfire burning for all to see. It was an unmistakable display of all the things that the Kal’dorei master had given up and would give for the world that he loved.

Could Kayn really do less? Could he turn his back on Azeroth simply because of the actions of one man? Crown Prince of Quel’thalas or not, that’s all Kael’thas was. He was just an elf whose once noble intentions could be corrupted or mislead, just like anyone else. The betrayal hurt, it stung, and Kayn would never forgive him for it, but in the end, Kayn could not let Kael’thas’ poor judgement influence his decisions.

Squaring his shoulders and lifting his head, Kayn steeled his resolve and said, “I wish to follow through with my initiation. If what the knight has told me is true, then Kael’thas is a traitor not just to all Sin’dorei, but to all of Azeroth, and my loyalty remains with the Illidari.”

“Thank you.” With a slow exhale of baited breath, Master Rhythas’s face softened in relief, a tiny, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. Gesturing to the unconscious Sin’dorei in Kayn’s arms, he asked, “And the Blood Knight?”

“He…” Kayn began, then hesitated, looking down at the knight. Golden eyelashes rested against soft, tanned cheeks, pouty pink lips parted slightly as he slept. Kayn had already once denied the knight a warrior’s death, it wouldn’t be fair to deny him the rest of his life. “What he chooses to do next is not my decision to make. But I hope that he too may fight by our side. He is strong enough, I am sure of that, but he may take some convincing.”

“Well, we shall simply have to see to it that he lives long enough to make that choice, won’t we?” Master Rhythas proclaimed, reaching for the knight to take him from Kayn’s arms. “Leave him with us. We shall see to his injuries. As for you…”

The master demon hunter tilted his head back, letting his burning eyes roam over the elf standing before him. Kayn adjusted his posture, hoping to appear strong, stalwart despite the unease growing in his heart. He had all but failed at his first task as a demon hunter by letting himself get distracted and chasing after a suicidal Blood Knight. Even if the information he brought back was valuable, he had ignored his duty to satisfy his own desires. It was not behavior befitting a soldier expected to sacrifice everything for his world.

“You have three hours. After that, we will wait for you no longer.”

Three hours. 

Three hours to catch a demon, and return. To some, the extension of his assignment might be seen as a mercy, but to Kayn, it was as harsh a punishment as he could imagine. If only he’d been allowed to try again in the next wave of initiates. Returning a failure would have been a humiliating blow, but it would have been tempered by the news he brought. But three hours…

Three hours was not enough time for a proper hunt. He’d be so lucky to encounter anything stronger than a felhound in that amount of time. If only he’d taken things more seriously. If only he put his mission first, and his curiosity second. So many if onlys, but he could not change the past. He could only make the best of the future.

Resigning himself to his fate, Kayn took a deep breath, saluted, and said, “I understand.”

As tired and hungry as he was, Kayn wasted no time sulking around the camp. He would have to make a meal of his bitterness and consume his pride. With his throwing daggers and sword left buried in a Fel Reaver, Kayn needed a new weapon, so he grabbed a pair of warglaives before heading out into Shadowmoon Valley. Though less familiar than his daggers and sword, the blades felt comfortable in his hands, making Kayn smile despite his foul mood. These were the favored weapons of the Illidari masters, and in the months leading to his initiation, Kayn trained extensively to master them. If he could not hunt the demon of his choice, then Kayn would find solace in taking his first demon down with the weapons of a demon hunter.

For a region infested with demons, Kayn found it incredibly difficult to locate something as common as a Man’ari Eredar. It was not as if the valley was empty; dimetrodons, rock flayers, and felboar insisted on impeding his search, and in the first hour Kayn spent scouring the valley, he found nothing viable. An imp here, an Abyssal there, and yet another Fel Reaver up and patrolling. With an impending deadline breathing down his neck, Kayn felt ridiculous for his earlier fantasies of taking a Reaver down and bringing its heart back for consumption. 

Sure, he felt more confident than ever in his ability to bring a Reaver crashing to the ground, but then what? How could possibly he get it back to the checkpoint in less than two hours? It was a foolish plan right from the beginning, and he was a fool for entertaining such a self-aggrandizing thought.

He still wasn’t about to eat an imp heart, though. Even if he knew exactly where to harvest as many as he could possibly carry in less than twenty minutes, imps were where Kayn drew the line. He may have lowered his standards, but he still had standards, damn it.

As each second ticked by into minutes, and the minutes edged closer to another hour, Kayn’s standards dwindled further and further. He was desparate. It wasn’t just the fate of his home that was on the line; it was his sense pride and sense. Without those, who was he? If he was not capable of finding and killing one single demon, then what was he good for? Sin’dorei nobles and their petty squabbles?

No. No, he would not go back to that. He refused. Even the imps would be better than going back to Silvermoon to live at the beck and call of self-centered, condescending pricks.

Will resolved, Kayn turned towards the imp pits and very nearly walked into a pack of Fel Stalkers.

For a moment, elf and demon stood, silently staring at each other in surprise. Then Kayn sighed in relief, tipping his head back as his entire body sagged gratefully. As he reached back for his warglaives, the Fel Stalkers, larger, smarter versions of the felhounds that roamed the valley, leaped forward with a snarl, charging with their mandibles wide and tentacles raised threateningly.

As an assassin, Kayn would have found a way to slink into the shadows, whether that was through the use of smoke bombs or just by simply ducking behind one of the many boulders that peppered the landscape. Lying in wait until the perfect time to strike, he could have chosen his target carefully, picking from the back of the pack in order to draw as little attention to himself as possible. With a quick strike to the back of it’s head, and a knife between its ribs, the demonic beasts wouldn’t have time to fight back.

As a demon hunter, Kayn would have the advantage of stealth no longer. He would not be able to draw the shadows around him like a cloak, or muffle his footsteps with a thought. Though he could not yet tap into the chaotic energies of the Twisting Nether, there was no time to get used to fighting out in the open like the present. With his warglaives in hand, Kayn charged straight into the pack of Fel Stalkers, bellowing out his determination.

He caught the first Fel Stalker across the jaw, severing one of its mandibles while another lunged for him, catching his leg in its teeth. Howling in pain, Kayn twisted in place, swinging out blindly with his glaive. It caught one of the Fel Stalker’s tentacle, slicing easily through the thin appendage. The sudden flash of pain was enough to startle the Fel Stalker into letting go of his leg, but as it did, a third beast lunged for him. Kayn barely managed to step aside in time to avoid getting tackled to the ground, bringing his glaive up as the Fel Stalker barreled past him to carve a deep strike along its flank, but still the Fel Stalker’s claws slashed across his chest.

As the Fel Stalker hit the ground heavily, bleeding steadily from its wound, a tentacle wrapped around Kayn’s wrist, pulling him backwards with enough force that he nearly fell off balance. Instead, he leaned into the tug, using his momentum to twist towards the Fel Stalker and plunge the tip of his glaive through its spine, where he left it as the Fel Stalker missing a mandible snapped at his arm. 

Stepping backwards to avoid getting bit, Kayn tripped over the body of the fallen Fel Stalker, falling ass over teakettle and landing flat on his back. Taking advantage of the tumble, the mandible-less Fel Stalker dove on top of him, and Kayn had only a moment to panic before he reflexively kicked up, catching the demon in the chest, using his feet to encourage it up over his head and onto the ground behind him. It landed on the ground with a yelp while Kayn scrambled to regain his footing and run back to the glaive he left embedded in one of the other Fel Stalkers.

Just as his hand wrapped around the hilt, a tentacle wrapped around his neck and a body collided with his back, sending him into a spiral with the Fel Stalker that had bit him before. Fortunately, Kayn had grabbed hold of his warglaive tightly enough that he brought it with him, and as he wrestled with the Fel Stalker, he slashed at the tentacle that was strangling him. His blade cut through it as easily as it had the first, leaving him free to disengage from the beast.

Kayn had only a moment to catch his breath before the mandible-less Fel Stalker was charging towards him again, and for a very brief moment, he deeply regretted his life choices. Then he swung his blade up, slicing through the demonic beast’s throat, nearly severing its head as the curve of his glaive cleaved through the Fel Stalker’s throat.

“Only one left,” he muttered to himself as he turned to face the tentacle-less Fel Stalker. It stood facing towards him, its head lowered as it regarded him carefully. There was a sense of reluctance in its postured; Fel Stalkers, as smart as they were, were still little more than demonic hounds, and the beast was wounded, it’s pack lying dead on the ground. It could run, lick its wounds, find another pack.

But it didn’t. It charged, and as it came in range of his glaives, Kayn turned sharply on his heel, spinning quickly in place so that his blades tore across the Fel Stalker’s back like a goblin shredder through a tree. The demon went down, and Kayn went down on top it, his legs giving out underneath him from a combination of exhaustion and a loss of balance.

Okay, so. One, he’d have to work on that finishing move, because that probably looked super badass and he absolutely had to show it to someone before he was allowed to die.

Two, he took back every negative thought he’d ever had about Fel Stalkers. He had underestimated them. It was wrong to think of them as lowly, inferior demons them just because they were beasts.

They were stupid, smelly, obstinate, beasts with teeth and claws and flailing appendages and fighting them sucked. And now, he was stuck hauling one of their putrid corpses halfway across the valley and make it back to the checkpoint in less than an hour while it bled all over him. Technically easy enough, as long as nothing attacked (knock on wood).

Pushing himself back to his feet, Kayn quickly cleaned the blood off his warglaives, then strapped them to his back before turning back to the assorted demon corpses.

“Eenie meenie miney mo,” he muttered to himself, kicking the Fel Stalker closest to him. In addition to being the least damaged of the beasts, it was also the last to die, technically making it the strongest. “I guess you’re it, my friend.”

Bending down, he braced his shoulder against its stomach, got an arm around its torso, and lifted, groaning from the effort. 

“I can’t tell if you weigh more or less than a grown elf in plate armor,” he grumbled to the corpse. Once he had it situated over his shoulder like a scaley, foul-smelling sack of potatoes, Kayn turned to scan the horizon for familiar landmarks until he felt he was pointed in the proper direction. Giving the corpse one last adjustment, he started the long, lonely, stinky trudge back to the checkpoint.

Shockingly, it passed uneventfully. For the first time since Kayn started this hunt, the local wildlife left him alone, and the demons were just as scarce as they had been while hunting. It was the first stroke of good fortune in several days, and Kayn didn’t trust it. He couldn’t trust it. With the way his luck had been going, as soon as he let his guard down, something inconvenient was bound to show up and ruin his day.

The closer he got to the checkpoint, the more he began to fear his suspicions were correct. The familiar sight of tents and Illidari masters going about their business was gone, replaced by an empty plateau looming on the horizon. Had he miscalculated the amount of time he had left? Had Master Rhythas lost faith and left the checkpoint early? Swallowing back his fear, Kayn continued up the path, bracing for the worst; what else could he do? If he had truly failed so miserably…

His mind flashed briefly to the Blood Knight, seated at the foot of the Fel Reaver, despair and resignation radiating from his posture. He claimed to have been discarded when Kayn found him, left to roam the wastelands in search of a glorious death. Would that become his fate? He could not return to Kael’thas, not if the knight’s words were true. Could he present himself to Voren’thal in Shattrath, admitting his failure and searching for some semblance of acceptance?

He thought of the knight’s coy, knowing smile and bright green eyes peering up at him through blond eyelashes, and the longing he could see through the sadness. He thought of the knight reaching for him when Kayn made it clear he wasn’t going to let the knight die. Even in the depths of his despair, the knight had not truly wanted to die. He simply needed help, to be given a second chance to show his worth.

Just as Master Rhythas was giving Kayn a second chance. No, Kayn would not give in to despair, he would not let doubt cloud his judgement. Even if the checkpoint was gone, he had to believe that Master Rhythas had not left him behind. It could just be that the other Illidari masters had been sent on ahead. After all, it wasn’t as though they needed every single master to attend the initiation one single Illidari. It was just to an initiate’s advantage to have as many witnesses as possible; more eyes meant a better chance of being selected by the best master.

When Kayn cleared the ridge leading up to the checkpoint, he found that the entire plateau had been cleared, nothing left behind but bloodstains, ash, and a single arcane stretcher. Master Rhythas and the knight were the only two souls that remained, resting together side by side behind the ritual circle burning brightly on the ground. On the left, the knight sat curled up into a tight ball, his face buried in his arms so that nothing was visible besides his fluffy golden mane. On the right, Master Rhythas lounged with one leg stretched out in front of him, an arm draped casually over his bent knee.

Master Rhythas was the first to notice Kayn approaching what remained of the checkpoint, a slow, welcoming smile stretching over his face in greeting. “Ahh, Kayn. I’m glad to see that once more, you have returned to us.”

“And,” he added, slowly rising to his feet and dusting himself off, taking a moment to examine the Fel Stalker slung over Kayn’s shoulder. “With not a moment to spare. Are you satisfied with your sacrifice?”

“Yes, Master,” Kayn murmured, his eyes turned to the ground as he approached the ritual circle. He was not the least bit satisfied, but there was no point in voicing his dissatisfaction. This was his failure, so this would be his burden to bear. It would exist as a reminder not to let his personal feelings get in the way of his duties again. 

Glancing at the knight, Kayn felt his gut twist as he caught sight of twin green eyes peering over the knight’s dark armor. He quickly turned away, choking back the feeling of guilt that rose in his throat. Was his life truly worth the price Kayn paid?

He couldn’t be sure.

Focusing his attention back on the ritual circle, Kayn pulled the Fel Stalker corpse from his shoulder and dropped in the center. He dropped to his knees as Master Rhythas approached, reaching up to pull his assassin’s cowl from his head. Master Rhythas took the warglaives from their harness on his back, then Kayn stripped his torso bare. Gutting a demon to consume its heart would be messy work, and though he would not need that particular set of leathers again, it felt appropriate to begin this ritual without them.

Kneeling next to him, Master Rhythas offered Kayn a long ornate dagger decorated with arcane runes and jagged, twisting spikes.

“You know what to do, my apprentice,” he intoned, and Kayn sucked in a sharp breath. Most masters waited until after initiates survived their first trial before they made their claim. To declare Kayn his apprentice now was, at the very least, a bold move, especially after Kayn’s reckless decisions.

But Master Rhythas was the one who extended Kayn’s deadline, unprompted and without hesitation. He was the one who saw the knight in Kayn’s arms, accepted him, and watched over him while Kayn finished his hunt. He stayed behind, trusted that Kayn would be able to complete the task assigned to him. What if Master Rhythas did not see his choice as a failure?

Staring down at the Fel Stalker corpse, Kayn felt his perspective shift. All his life, he’d chased personal glory to make a better life for himself. He honed his skills to receive recognition, and where did it lead him? To a life he was unsatisfied with, a life spent serving petty, bickering nobles. Even as one of Kael’thas’s elite, he hadn’t truly felt content with his life. It was only among the Illidari that Kayn felt any sense of purpose, as if his life finally had meaning.

Perhaps choosing to chase the knight had put his status among the Illidari in jeopardy, but it was not the knight’s fault. Putting aside the strategic information the knight could surely provide, if Kayn had the chance to do the past few days over, Kayn knew in his heart that he would make the same decision, over and over, again and again. His own personal glory would never be worth the life of another person.

Master Rhythas had forgiven his compassion. What was more, he rewarded Kayn’s decision by giving him a second chance to complete his task. Now, he knelt at Kayn’s side, not only offering him a dagger, but his guidance and support. It was an honor to be chosen, and it erased any thoughts of failure from Kayn’s head in an instant, filling him with a sudden burst of pride, gratitude, and the resolve not to fail again. “I do, Master.”

As he reached for the dagger, Kayn’s hand trembled slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Determined as he felt, Kayn was very aware of the fact that he was about to eat a demon heart and claw out his eyes. Anyone would be nervous. As his fingers wrapped around the dagger’s hilt, Kayn took one last steadying breath, then sharply pulled his hand back, ready to plunge the blade deep into demon’s chest.

With one quick slash, Kayn drew the blade up along the rib cage, the sharp metal slicing easily through leather skin and tough muscle. Stinking green blood oozed from the wound, dripping onto the ground and pooling at Kayn’s knees. Movement flashed in the corner of his vision, the knight sitting up a little bit straighter as he watched Kayn carve into the demon, but Kayn did not look up. He focused all his attention on getting to the heart of the demon, digging the knife into demonic flesh until the cut was large enough that he could plunge his hands into the wound and take hold of the flesh in both hands. With a roar of determination, he ripped apart the rib cage, cracking bones and exposing tainted green offal.

Blood pooled from the corpse as Kayn pushed lungs and viscera out of the way until he revealed the heart. For a moment, he simply stared at the dark green organ, watching as it quivered in the cooling night air. Though he knew the beast died long before, when Kayn first plunged his warglaives into the demon’s thick hide, for an impossible moment, Kayn almost believed that its heart still beat.

But whether it was still alive, or whether the heart was simply jiggling from the force of Kayn’s violence did not matter. Master Rhythas watched him expectantly, and Kayn was not going to let him down again.

Taking the heart in his hand and gripping it tight, Kayn braced his other hand on the demon’s head and ripped the heart from its chest. Glowing green blood splattered against his face and chest, and the knight squawked loudly in surprise. Kayn glanced up at him, flashing him a crooked smile as he raised the heart up to his lips. He watched as the knight’s eyes grew wide, feeling strangely empowered by the knight’s adverse reaction. Perhaps it was adrenaline. Perhaps he was already being corrupted by the demon he was about to consume.

The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth as Kayn bit into the heart, fel taint giving it a sharp, caustic zing, and an acrid scent flooded his nostrils. As he chewed on leathery flesh, the blood burn burned all the way down his throat and dropped into his stomach like a glowing ember. Still, he ate on, taking bite after nauseating bite as fire rushed through his veins, building behind his eyes until he could no longer see the knight before him, or Master Rhythas at his side. There were only demons.

Demons as far as the eye could see. Army after army after army. Demons being killed, their bodies left to rot as their souls were ripped from the Twisting Nether forged into new bodies. Demons conquering planets, and from each new planet, a new army of demons arose, which went off to conquer new planets, spreading their taint through the universe like a disease. And each time Azeroth fought off one army, a new army turned their attention to the world, one by one, a never ending chain of contagion. 

To his credit, Kayn kept his wits about him as horror upon horror compounded before his eyes. It was not the demons that broke him. Master Demon Hunter after Demon Hunter spoke of what they saw when they first partook of demon flesh, he knew what he would see. Though their words never truly came close to describing the feeling, the terror that now raced through his mind, Kayn was braced for it.

When Kayn screamed, he screamed in pain.

He screamed and the knight leapt to his feet, throwing himself forward with a desperate shout of “KAYN!” but Master Rhythas caught him before he could get too far, wrapping his arms tightly around the struggling knight’s chest, and holding him in place.

“No!” the knight cried out, thrashing his body and kicking his feet, but Master Rhythas only tightened his grip. “He saved my life!”

“And you will have the chance to return the favor, this I promise you,” Master Rhythas swore as Kayn fell to the ground, his skin writhing as though worms squirmed just beneath the surface. Cracks formed here and there as his skin split, dark crimson blood oozing across his back. “But now is not that time. You cannot interfere. This must happen.”

“Wh-why?” The knight sobbed, shaking his head furiously back and forth. He thrashed, he squirmed, he wriggled until he worked an arm free, tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks as he reached for Kayn’s body. “WHY?”

“All power comes at a price,” Rhythas rumbled as Kayn’s back arched and he suddenly reared back, roaring out in pain as twin horns erupted from his forehead, curling in a wide arc over his head. “This is the price he must pay for the power to protect Azeroth.”

“No!” the knight cried out, “no,” struggling frantically against the Kal’dorei’s arms as Kayn’s nails elongated into claws, and as his teeth fell out, one by one, replaced by a mouthful of long, sharp fangs. He screamed, screamed as Kayn raised his claws, brought them them up to his face, and plunged them into his eyes. When Kayn began to claw frantically at his eyes as blood dripped down his face, the knight could take it no more. With a tearful sob, he buried his face into Master Rhythas’s chest, crying out his sorrow, pain, and fear.

Finally, Kayn stopped screaming, his body collapsing lifelessly to the ground and Master Rhythas released his hold on the knight. Immediately, he rushed to Kayn’s side, rolling him onto his back and tucking his knees beneath Kayn’s head. Blood dripped from Kayn’s empty eye sockets, the streaks of red covering his cheeks turning to brown then glowing fel green where it was freshest. It dripped down his forehead where the large, heavy curled horns burst from his scalp, crowning his head, and it oozed bright green from the cracks in his skin.

“Oh Kayn,” the knight sniffled as he brushed long black hair away from Kayn’s pale face, being careful to avoid touching the blood. “I wish you would have let me help him.”

“If you had tried to interfere, everything Kayn had worked so hard for would have been lost,” Master Rhythas shrugged, rummaging through his pouches for bandages. He pulled out an assortment of potions, a few scattered herbs, and a pen before he located the correct pouch, producing a handful of cloth that he offered to the knight. “Here, use these. The Light is very powerful, and though it is most potent on that which is not dead, it may still cleanse the taint of demons.

The knight said nothing as he accepted the cloth, using one strip to wipe the blood away from Kayn’s face. He cleaned the skin around Kayn’s horns, then wiped the blood from his hands, taking cae to clean as much as he could from beneath his claws. Once satisfied that Kayn was as clean as he was going to get, he placed a pad of cloth on each of Kayn’s eyes, then carefully lifted his head, winding the bandages around and around until they were held securely in place.

“He will recover.” Master Rhythas rested a hand on the knight’s shoulder, smiling gently as the knight looked up at him. “Kayn is walking a path that has been tread a thousand times before. It is as…”

He paused, tilting his head to the side with a half-smirk as he chose his words. “Well, it’s as safe as any path, I suppose.”

The knight’s eyes dropped as he considered the words, his gaze darting briefly to Kayn’s face before he licked his lips and spoke. “So what happens next?”

“We return to the Black Temple,” Master Rhythas said simply, kneeling down next to the knight to scoop Kayn up into his arms. “Kayn will sleep for three days, and when he awakens, he will have a new trial to go through.”

“And me?” the knight asked, watching as Master Rhythas placed Kayn in the arcane stretcher and began navigating it down the hill, where a Talbuk stood waiting. He got to his feet and followed, reaching out to pet the Talbuk’s nose as Master Rhythas secured Kayn’s stretcher to its harness. “What will become of me?”

“That’s up to you, is it not?” replied the master, arching an eyebrow at the knight before taking hold of the Talbuk’s harness and pulling himself. Once seated astride the mount, he turned his gaze back to the knight, expression neutral. “You do not have to return with us. You may seek your fortune out in the wastes, if that is what you prefer.”

“But,” he added, learning down and offering the knight his hand, “if you chose to come with us, you will be welcome. I will take you to see Lord Illidan so that you may tell him what you told us, and you may be given the chance to go on a hunt of your own.”

Seeing the hesitation on the knight’s face, Master Rhythas’ expression softened, his voice going quiet as he murmured, “Kayn would like to have you by his side, of that I am sure.”

The knight’s cheeks flushed red as he looked away, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Well… I don’t see what else I have to lose.”


	3. The Black Temple

The ride back to the Black Temple was spent dodging rock flayers, nether dragons, and most notably, one extremely determined felboar. Somehow, neither rider nor the mount had noticed the beast rooting around in the dirt until the Talbuk practically tripped over it. Angry at being nearly trampled, the felboar chased them for the better part of an hour, charging at the Talbuk’s legs and squealing almost loud enough to drown out the knight’s screams. 

With every jolt and between every sudden burst of speed, the knight screamed again, clinging tightly to Master Rhythas as he pressed his face into his back. Though the Kal’dorei grunted whenever the knight squeezed too hard, he largely ignored the small elf’s distress, focusing his attention on guiding the Talbuk away from the raging boar. 

Relief finally came as Master Rhythas steered the Talbuk towards a ditch in the road too wide and too deep for the felboar to cross safely. With one final burst of speed, the Talbuk cleared the gap, leaving the felboar to grumble and scream its displeasure while everyone else panted as they collected what remained of their frayed nerves.

Once his heart stopped threatening to beat its way out of the knight’s chest, he glanced back at Kayn, worried that the quick pace and rough ride might have dislodged him from the stretcher. He let out a relieved breath when he saw that, despite everything, Kayn still rested peacefully where he lay, not a single hair out of place. The arcane magic that enabled the stretcher to float had also protected its passenger from any bumps or bucks that could have endangered him.

“Worried?” Master Rhythas asked with a laugh, smiling over his shoulder at the knight, who blushed furiously at having been caught. “The Illidari are very familiar with the dangers of Outland. Thus, we are very well equipped to handle even the most unexpected of circumstances.”

“I didn’t doubt you,” the knight murmured petulantly, ducking his head to avoid eye contact.

With a hum of acceptance, Master Rhythas patted the knight’s hand and urged the Talbuk back into a light canter. The worst of the dangers were now behind them, but it lifted some of the doubt from Master Rhythas’ heart to see how much the knight still cared, even after all he had seen. There were few outside the Illidari who would readily trust in Lord Illidan and his soldiers, but within the knight’s concern, he saw the willingness to listen, to learn and to understand.

That would be important, if they were to trust the unknown knight’s presence within the Black Temple walls.

Before long, the ebony spires of the Black Temple began to rise over the horizon, and the hunched, mutated bodies of the Broken began to dot the landscape. They toiled away as demons walked among them, paying no mind to the Talbuk and its riders as they passed. The knight gasped and clung tighter to Master Rhythas as they rode close enough to one demon that it snarled and shook a fist in their direction, expecting the Talbuk to lurch forward with another burst of speed, but the Kal’dorei simply laughed quietly, throwing a reassuring smile over his shoulder.

“These demons belong to the Illidari,” he explained, giving the knight’s hand a quick squeeze. “Lord Illidan has broken their connection to the Burning Legion and they serve him as willingly as any of his demon hunters. You have no need fear their presence.”

“Belong to the Illidari?” the knight squeaked back, his eyes going wide with surprise. “But I thought that Kayn said that the Illidari were trying to eradicate all the demons?”

With a quiet hum of agreement, Master Rhythas tilted his head to the side and shrugged one shoulder, murmuring “That is not wrong.” 

No further explanation was offered as they rode closer to the Black Temple. Soon, the dark, looming structure of the corrupted temple dominated the landscape, its vast gates sweeping out over the horizon like the outstretched wings of a large, predatory bird. A cluster of tall blue and purple bodies waited for them outside the gates, a handful smaller, paler bodies standing near the front of the group.

“My apprentices!” Master Rhythas exclaimed, bringing the Talbuk to a halt as he greeted them. “This is a pleasant surprise. What are you all doing here?”

“We worried when you did not return with the rest of the masters,” one woman replied, stepping forward from the group as Master Rhythas dismounted. She stood poised and stately, whispy pink hair curling over her forehead and cascading down her shoulders. Though her eyes were obscured by a black and silver veil, gleaming purple ink swirled across her cheeks in a floral pattern. “We heard there were… complications.”

Her gaze drifted past Master Rhythas to the knight still clinging to the Talbuk’s saddle as he eyed the distance to the ground apprehensively. The tall, deerlike beast was considerably higher off the ground than the Hawkstriders and equine Chargers he was familiar with, and from his perch, the knight couldn’t quite figure out how to dismount safely. Feeling her gaze on his back, the knight froze, lifting his head to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Don’t look at me, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I… can see that,” she replied, arching an eyebrow skeptically. She glanced at Master Rhythas for some sort of explanation, but he merely laughed and plucked the knight from the Talbuk’s saddle.

“I had thought a three hour delay would be short enough that we could slip in with minimal fuss,” he explained, placing the protesting knight on the ground, “but apparently I still managed to be missed.”

“We have been waiting here for three hours!” one of the Sin’dorei women blurted out as she stomped her foot, her tone frustrated and annoyed. Bone white hair framed her sharp face, standing out starkly against the burnt and blackened hue of her skin. “You were supposed to arrive with the rest of the masters, but then you didn’t and all we were told was that you were delayed by… ”

She inhaled sharply, sneering at the knight as venom dripped from her voice. “...Extenuating circumstances.”

“We are owed an explanation, not some dismissive “I don’t know know” from an idiotic child of Light prancing around in his father’s armor.”

As a ripple of agreement, and a few snickers of laughter, swept through the assembled apprentices, the knight sucked in a deep breath. When Kayn had second guessed his age, it was understandable; he didn’t look short when he was sitting down, and Kayn hadn’t actually said anything dismissive. He’d been caught off guard, and that was okay. That happened sometimes. This was just malicious name-calling, and everyone knew it.

“This is my armor!” the knight snapped, his eyes going wide as he stood up straighter, holding his head up high and pointing to himself for emphasis. “I’m nearly 500 years old and I’ve earned it! I know I’m short, and I know you’re upset because you were worried, but I don’t deserve to be spoken down to like that. None of this is my fault. I didn’t ask to be here!”

“Child,” Master Rhythas sighed, placing a hand on the knight’s head, causing him to bristle further, but before the knight could do more than open his mouth, he continued, “Kayn Sunfury thought this Blood Knight’s life was worth saving.” 

A murmur rustled through the crowd as Master Rhythas gestured to the unconscious elf, the Sin’dorei voices raised the loudest. After untying the stretcher from the Talbuk, Master Rhythas presented it to the outspoken Sin’dorei woman, entreating her, “Would you please ensure that he is properly looked after, Souixanne? He will be joining our number when his spectral sight awakens.”

“Yes, of course, Master!” she gasped, shaking herself out of stunned silence. As she accepted the stretcher, the other Sin’dorei stepped forward, and together they directed Kayn’s unconscious body inside the gates. Just before they passed out of sight, the woman, Souixanne, looked back over her shoulder, her brow furrowing as she peered back at her master and the knight.

Though the knight longed to follow them, to make sure that Kayn was properly looked after, but before he could take one step, Master Rhythas caught him by the shoulder and shook his head.

“Your concern is greatly appreciated, but I am afraid it will have to wait until later,” he said, guiding the knight towards the large staircase leading up to the front entrance of the temple. “You and I will be reporting directly to Lord Illidan. Is that not why you are here, after all?”

Though Master Rhythas smiled gently and spoke in a reassuring tone, the knight still resisted as the Kal’dorei urged him forward. He wasn’t digging in his heels, not just yet, but the knight was certainly dragging his feet. Illidan, the Great Betrayer, was a figure of legend to the knight, an individual who existed in history books and the tales of heroes. As a foot soldier and common guardsman, someone who did not even hold a sargeant’s rank, the idea of facing someone so monumentally more important than himself was incredibly daunting.

“Can’t I just just tell you, so you can tell him, and I can go back to not being here?” the knight whined as Master Rhythas nudged and prodded him up the stairs.

“First hand knowledge is always more reliable than second hand, dear knight,” Master Rhythas chuckled, giving the knight another little shove. “You will be able to answer questions better than I ever could.”

“My knowledge isn’t even first hand,” the knight grumped, giving in and sighing heavily as he marched up the steps. Sure, he could make a run for it, if he really wanted, but to what end? His own death? Wasting Kayn’s noble sacrifice? Never being able to see if Kayn survived whatever it was he just went through?

Maybe he should just run. It wasn’t as if he knew Kayn at all. What reason did the knight have to trust him? Not only had he openly admitted to working for Illidan Stormrage, one of the most controversial figures in history, but Kayn openly and enthusiastically ate a demon heart right in front of the knight. He couldn’t shake the mental image of Kayn smirking at him over the quivering green organ, fluorescent green blood dripping down his hands and smeared across his chest.

For a brief moment, the knight had stared into Kayn’s eyes and felt… well, he had felt something, but the moment passed as soon as Kayn began screaming. It was horrific to watch the way the elf had twisted and writhed, demonic energy corrupting his body into something unnatural. The way Kayn had clawed at his face until his eyes burst and bled down his cheeks left the knight’s heart devastated. The fact that he was not allowed to help ease Kayn’s suffering was more than he could stand.

The knight had been called a bleeding heart in the past, but how could he not care about the suffering of others? Perhaps that was why he was still here. Perhaps that was why he did not run. To see someone suffer so horribly for something they believed in, how could he not want to stay until he knew Kayn was okay? How could he not want to understand the cause that Kayn was so dedicated to that he willingly disfigured and blinded himself?

Still, to be taken directly to Lord Illidan was an intimidating prospect. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? “Sorry, your current best friend and ally decided Kil’jaeden was his new best friend?” That Was Not Going To Cut It.

With a resigned sigh, the knight glanced up from his thoughts, jerking backwards as he discovered a large green eye floating right in front of thim. For a few seconds, it stared up at him, unblinking, then it revolved in place until it collapsed into itself with a faint “voip.”

“Um?” the knight articulated very eloquently, pointing at the spot where the eye used to be and looking up at Master Rhythas for an explanation.

“Ahh, that would be Abel, I presume,” Master Rhythas laughed, grinning down at the knight’s questioning look. Glancing up the stairway, he pointed out two figures hovering just inside the entrance. “Kayn’s elder brother. I suspect that he’s a bit too proud to admit that he was worried, but there are few others who would send an eye out to watch.”

“So why’s he looking at me?” the knight asked, pouting up at the figures as if they had personally offended him.

Shrugging the question away, Master Rhythas resumed climbing the stairs, walking past the knight without any apparent concern. “Curiosity, I assume. To our eyes, you are noticeably different, and do not belong here.”

“And yet, you are taking me to meet Lord Illidan anyway.”

Master Rhythas laughed, but said nothing, leaving the knight no choice but to follow him up the steps. As they neared the top, the knight got a better look at the pair waiting for him. They leaned together against the massive doorway to the Black Temple, one tall, blond, and nearly as broad as an orc, the other lean and willowy, standing half a head shorter than his companion. Matching green gems decorated their foreheads, and neither of them wore blindfolds, letting their eye sockets flame freely. Despite this, the smaller one rubbed at his left eye as if it bothered him, his right eye obscured by a curtain of long black hair.

“Neglecting your studies, apprentices?” Master Rhythas asked as they approached, a teasing note in his gentle, soothing voice.

“You’re not our master,” the big one replied with a deep, resonate voice that resembled the roar of a lion. With a smirk, he draped himself across the smaller Blood Elf’s back, nuzzling his face into the other elf’s cheek as he wrapped his arms around his waist. “We don’t have to listen to you.”

“Oh, don’t be rude, Sangrin,” the smaller elf chided, pulling his hand away from his eye to pat Sangrin on the head. The knight could almost see the resemblance to Kayn, but Abel was thinner, narrower, with more prominent cheekbones. Though he had the same sweeping horns as Kayn, Abel’s skin was pale around his face and the center of his torso alone; the rest of his skin was blackened from the demonic taint, cracked and flaking in a scale-like pattern. “After all, it is a Master’s job to fuss needlessly over every little thing.”

“Perhaps you simply need more fussing over than others,” Master Rhythas deadpanned, arching an eyebrow pointedly. While Abel scoffed and protested, Master Rhythas turned his attention to the knight, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Your brother saw fit to rescue this knight from death, and that was the cause for our delay. I assume you have one eye on the infirmary?”

“Ugh, that Kayn. He always has to be so noble,” Abel huffed, pushing Sangrin off his shoulders as he stepped forward, reaching out to take the knight’s chin. The knight resisted slightly, tossing his head defiantly as he squared his shoulders and scowled up at Abel. The demon hunter simply held his chin tighter as he cast a critical eye over the knight’s face, and as he leaned down, the knight thought he saw a flash of an empty eye socket through the curtain of Abel’s bangs.

“Of course I do,” Abel continued, waving dismissively in Master Rhythas’s direction, “Not that Kayn’s going to do anything interesting for the next several days. I’m more curious about this little bastion of purity you’ve brought to our humble felhole. Do you have a name, poppet?”

“No,” the knight snarled, pushing Abel away with a jerk of his head. “I don’t appreciate being condescended to like a child.”

Once he was free of Abel’s grip, the knight paused, taking a moment to think over what he just said. “I mean, I do have a name, but I’m not sure it really belongs to me anymore.”

“Oh, are you having a crisis of faith?” Abel cooed, his eyes going wide as his face split into a toothy leer. “What fun! I do so love taking advantage of the vulnerable and disenfranchised.”

“What Abel means,” Master Rhythas interjected, scowling fiercely at Abel while resting a reassuring hand on the knight’s back. When he looked down at the knight, he was all soft smiles and gentle words once more. “Many demon hunters consider their initiation to be a rebirth. If you wish to leave your old life behind, you may.”

“If you want to be all idealistic about it, sure,” Abel huffed, flicking his wrist and tilting his head as though he were rolling his eyes.

“I just changed my name cuz Sangrin sounded metal,” the large elf added, grinning sloppily. This close, the knight could see large, sharp teeth filling his mouth. It seemed that he almost had too many, and they pushed and competed with each other for enough room to grow, making Sangrin snaggletoothed. “Cuz it’s a pun on sanguin, yanno? The fancy word for blood? And I have a lot of teeth.”  
“Yes, darling, you do have a lot of teeth,” Abel cooed, turning around to pat Sangrin’s face. When Sangrin grinned at him, Abel chuckled quietly to himself and cupped Sangrin’s face in both hands, gently smooshing his cheeks together so that his lips puckered automatically. “You have so many teeth. I would even venture as far as to say you have all the teeth! My, what lovely teeth you have!”

As Abel continued to play with his face, smooshing his cheeks between his hands then stretching them out and wiggling the flaps of his skin around, Sangrin stood there and laughed, reminding the knight somewhat of a dopey hound. Were these people supposed to be evil? Were they really Azeroth’s greatest threat? Their behavior was a stark contrast to those of the apprentices waiting for Master Rhythas outside the temple, and despite the menacing first impression, the knight was wondering if he should really be taking them all that seriously.

“Are they always like this?” the knight asked, keeping his voice lowered as he looked to Master Rhythas for answers.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Master Rhythas mumbled back, a hand cupping his face to obscure his expression. It might have been a smirk. It could have been a grimace. Most likely, the knight suspected, the Illidari Master was trying not to laugh.

Suffice to say, the knight was feeling a bit… underwhelmed.

“I just watched a man eat a demon heart and claw out his own eyes while screaming in terror and agony, and now I’m watching his older brother make kissy faces at another man?” he deadpanned.

“And you think this is funny!” the knight added, pointing accusingly at Master Rhythas. “You’re trying to hide it, but I can see you smirking over there! This isn’t funny! You’re supposed to be evil!”

“You mean this isn’t evil?” Master Rhythas asked, pulling his hand away to reveal a toothy grin. “I suppose that’s fair, I don’t think I’ve kicked a puppy yet today.”

“Oh really, it’s just a matter of perspective,” Abel huffed as he let go of Sangrin’s face, putting his hands exasperatedly on his hips. “Listen, maybe for you, the eye thing was a horrifying experience, but we’ve all gone through it.” 

After gesturing to himself, to the other elves present, and to the temple behind him, Abel paused, cocking his head to the side as he added, “Well, not literally everyone in the Black Temple has done it, but they’ve at least seen it happen, and they’ve seen us walk away from it.”

“Sometimes, people don’t walk away from it,” Sangrin added, leaning over so that his chin rested on Abel’s shoulder. “And that’s sad, but being sad about it isn’t gonna make things any easier.”

“Besides, the eye thing is pretty horrific,” Sangrin grinned, pointing to his own openly burning eyes. Without further ado, he hooked two fingers into an eye socket, and as the knight watched, eyes going wide and breath hitching in his throat, Sangrin casually popped the flaming orb out of his skull as if it was no big deal. When he held out his hand, it bobbed in the air at the tip of his fingers. “But you only have to go through it once, and after that, it’s pretty much like being in any old army.”

As the knight stared, aghast, a pupil opened up in the center of the orb, looking up at the knight as Sangrin’s grin grew wider. “Pretty cool, huh? Abel’s better at it than I am, this is about all I can do with ‘em. But Abel can actually control them. It’s great, he can send his eyeballs out and see through them over huge distances. Because he actually ate the Inquisitor, I just had a sip of its blood.”

“Cool is a word for it,” the knight sputtered, his voice trembling as he leaned away from the floating eyeball and the demon hunter it belonged to. “So- so you mean that eye from before…?”

“MINE!” Abel crowed as the knight trailed off, pushing his hair back to reveal a blackened and empty eye socket. With his hair out of his face, the knight could see the thin scars running down his cheeks; three jagged lines emanating from each eye as if from claws raking across his face. The realization that it was probably his own doing made the knight’s stomach churn, and he stumbled back reflexively, a whimper bubbling up in his throat.

“Actually, that eye is back in its socket where belongs,” Abel chuckled, smirking as he ran a hand through his hair, collecting it into a loose ponytail draped over his shoulder. A few long strands escaped from his hold as he transferred a tie from his wrist to the end of the ponytail, framing his and falling lightly against his empty eye socket. “The missing one is down with Kayn. Souixanne tried to throw her weight around, and Matron Mother Seraphina is having her thrown out, by the way.”

With a wince, Master Rhythas sighed, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. ““I have been hoping to break her of those habits, but I suppose we still have a ways to go. I’ll talk to her later. In the meanwhile, I do believe it’s time to advance the plot.”

“Ooooh, yes, you’re going to see Master Illidan, aren’t you?” Abel commented as Master Rhythas gestured for the knight to follow.

He groaned loudly.as he complied, and Master Rhythas sent a smile at Abel as they stepped inside. “Indeed. Would you like to join us, Abel? I may have use for you after the meeting.” 

“Oooh, that would be lovely! I’ll take any excuse to ogle our Lord and Master,” Abel giggled, clapping his hands together in delight. Turning back to Sangrin, he cupped the large elf’s face in his hands, cooing, “Darling, why don’t you go and take all your lovely teeth back to practice? I have one eye with me now, so I think I’ll be fine without you to escort me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sangrin agreed, leaning in to give Abel a sloppy smooch before he turned away to head across the entryway. “Even without any eyes, I’m sure the master’ll be able to keep you from runnin’ into any walls. I always get bored at these things, and Illidan’s abs aren’t that interesting to me, anyway.”

“Gasp!” Abel gasped in mock offense, putting a hand to his heart as Sangrin walked away. “Sangrin! How could you say such disrespectful things? Illidan’s abs are glorious and absolutely worth standing through boring meetings to stare at!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this written for a while, but I was determined to just. Get a little more written. Today, I opened up this doc, looked at the closing line, and just. I couldn't top that. So this chapter ends in disaster, and the next one will begin with disaster and that's just going to be how things are, I guess.


End file.
